


hallucination

by chrobins



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, M/M, Soulmates, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 08:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13900485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrobins/pseuds/chrobins
Summary: grima has won, and chrom becomes the risen king. together, they set out to destroy everything.





	hallucination

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers ahead!

Grima loves the death he sees in Chrom, his new king. What life, what little fight the Exalt might have had is gone; his red eyes only glow with destruction. “How beautiful you are.” Grima sighs happily, cradling the undead’s head on his arms, petting his cold cheek. “Are you having fun?”

 

Chrom makes a small movement to Grima’s voice, but his eyes keep trained on the fiery scene before them, what might have been a kingdom now burnt to ashes and flames. “Must...destroy...all.” Chrom declares, raising his hand up to conjure more of his risen army. Grima chuckles.

 

“Yes, I love the sound of that.” Grima’s sweet laugh turns into cackles, and he moves to seat himself on Chrom’s lap, on his undead throne. “Burn everything to the ground. Burn it all.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Kill...them…” Chrom’s voice echoes loudly through the village, finally taking some time to go out on the battlefield himself. Grima watches from the throne eagerly, proud to see him take lives so easily.  _ A living monster. _

 

“So beautiful.” Grima sighs dreamily; this partnership of destruction was beyond Grima’s wildest dreams. Now maybe he wouldn’t be so lonely.

 

* * *

 

 

Chrom is moving slower; Grima notices this a little late, but he figures it comes with the price of being undead. “You’ve worked hard today, my Risen King.” He pats the new throne they’ve acquired, the castle empty, fires blazing on the other side of the glass windows. 

 

As the King sits, Grima casts a spell that strengthens Chrom’s energy, gives him more destructive power. Chrom takes a liking to this, groaning as dark energy surges all about him. “Mmm, we must conquer new thrones for you, my beautiful King. You deserve to sit upon them all.” The moans of Risen echo outside the castle walls.

 

It’s music to their ears.

 

* * *

 

 

“You don’t have to go out and kill  _ everyone _ . Let the grimy Risen do that for you, hmm?” Grima cradles Chrom’s face, sweeping dirt off his cold skin. “It’s just as fun to sit and watch death happen without lifting a finger.” Chrom doesn’t move; he only grunts and slowly sinks into the throne again. His eyes are brighter and clearer than ever, burning with bloodlust.

 

“Destroy…” His voice cracks. “For you.”

 

Grima gasps. “For me?” He smiles and cackles even more. “Perhaps I understand that man’s obsession for you…” Grima sighs in delight. “You charm me with every word. Do you say this to every pretty boy you see?” He laughs again at the thought, hopping down the steps and leaving Chrom to watch more kingdoms bow before them before burning to a crisp.

 

* * *

 

 

Years pass and continents are conquered. Nothing remains of the Earth except fire and Risen. Grima stands with his arms outstretched, breathing in the air of his conquest. “Ah…” He exhales deeply, smiling wide. “It is beautiful...nothing but death at every turn.”

 

He spins almost like a child, laughing gleefully. Yet it is a sinister sound.

 

“So many  _ years _ of waiting for this day...to swallow the world in flames!” Grima’s energy crackles around him, burning brighter than ever. He wants to bathe in this feeling, almost like a climax of victory. “Oh...it feels so great...but I think it’s even better when the former Exalt is right by my side.” He laughs. “If only Naga could see how I’ve turned the hero into my puppet.”

 

Grima makes his way back to a new throne he’s built on the bones of old Kings no more. Chrom sits there, unmoving. He laughs; it’s a picturesque sight.

 

“My dear King of the Risen...let me indulge in this with you.” Grima singsongs, climbing his way to the top to meet Chrom. But his happiness fades at the sight. His Risen King, his puppet, the foolish mortal who bowed before him trembling with fear...is unmoving. Completely still. The brightness in his eyes is gone. “Chrom?”

 

For a moment, Grima does not recognize his own voice. His body moves on it’s own, perched at Chrom’s side and cradling his cold face. 

 

“You are undead.” Grima says simply. “Why are you dying?” He frowns and takes a step back, casting powerful magic to bring Chrom back to full power. But nothing takes a hold on the former exalt. The magic crackles, then dissipates. “Hmm...strange…”   
  
Grima tries again, countless times, anticipating the bright red to come back to Chrom’s eyes. But Chrom can barely respond. It doesn’t make sense. The pain in Grima’s chest doesn’t make sense. The cold cheeks in his hands don’t make sense. The wetness on his face doesn’t make sense. 

 

“You cannot die. You are  _ undead. _ Why won’t you stand back up? We must celebrate together...we must bathe in the glory of destruction. The world is  _ ours! _ We made it so! There is no one left to defy us! We’ve achieved  _ greatness!” _

 

_ When did “I” become “we”? _

 

“Chrom, wake up.” Grima demands, dark energy surging  so powerful that what’s left of trees and bushes fly into the wind as ashes, coating the sky in blackness. “What good is an Undead King if you are going to  _ die? _ ”

 

“Robin…” The quietly muttered name brings such a shock to Grima that he cannot understand the word. 

 

“What? No, I am  _ Grima,  _ the  _ Fell Dragon. _ And you will obey at  _ at once!”  _ Grima screeches, grabbing Chrom by the neck and hoisting him up in the air. “Where is your fire? Your burning to desire to  _ kill _ and  _ destroy? _ ” Chrom does not react.

 

Grima wonders if what this human body is doing is weeping. He brings Chrom back down again, setting him up carefully on his constructed throne. He looks every bit of the King Grima saw in him. But not like this. “It’s okay now...Robin...you can come home…”

 

The animalistic groans are gone; everything that made Chrom a Risen was gone. This was the human Chrom; weak, loving Chrom. Beautiful, beautiful, sweet Chrom. Grima cradles Chrom’s cold cheeks in his hands again. “That man is gone...I am Grima, the Fell Dragon.” But his conviction is weak; his words are empty.

 

“It’s okay…” Chrom repeats, “come home…”

 

Chrom’s body doesn’t last much longer. His skin starts to turn to flaky bits, fluttering away with the wind.  _ He’s dying.  _ “No, you cannot die! That’s impossible! I won’t allow it!” 

 

But Chrom begins to dissipate; he was not built to last. “Come...home…”

 

On a spur of the moment thought, of a human urge that does not suit Grima, he brings Chrom’s weak face to his own, presses cold lips to his, and tastes nothing but death. Yet Chrom’s kiss is so loving and sweet, even as he crumbles away in Grima’s hands and turns to dust.

 

* * *

 

 

“NOOOOOOO!” Grima screams as magic blasts into his being, sears him to white-hot nothingness. He opens his eyes and doesn’t see his Risen King; only the Exalt...his people...and  _ Robin. _

 

_ Ah... _ Grima stops struggling, letting himself come to an end.  _ It was not a set in stone future that I saw...only a hopeless dream… _

 

He lets Chrom be his last sight.  _ It started and ended with him. For both of us...he saved us both. _

 

Grima’s own demise at Robin’s hand was better than the future he thought he believed in; what was a future without Chrom?

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you thought!


End file.
